


I love it when you give me things

by Amie33



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amie33/pseuds/Amie33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few little stories about the Doctor and River and the gifts they make for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love it when you give me things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tisziny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisziny/gifts).



> Inspired by Claudia’s answer to “what would they get each other for gifts?”: _The Doctor gets River books and gadgets and things she can carry on her person at all time to remember him by. River gets 11 bow ties and stupid socks, and she gets 12 a ring._  
>  Unbeta'd.

_But I,_  
_I love it when you give me things._  
_And you,_  
_You ought to give me wedding rings_  
Peter Gabriel, Book of love

  


She’s sitting at the edge of the cliff, looking at the ocean with sad, melancholic eyes. He approaches softly, hesitating. River doesn’t like showing her emotions, at least not the ones she thought that makes her weak ( _always hide the damage_ ) and he doesn’t know if she will appreciate his interruption. But she turns to him and pats the empty space next to her, inviting, and it’s the only permission he needs. He almost runs to the place and sits as carefully as he can - it wouldn’t help her mood to kill himself by tripping and crashing at the bottom of the cliff, would it?

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, and for a while they just sit next to each other, the wind blowing a soft breeze that makes her hair gently fly around her head, drops of salt and water trapped between her curls. He watched them as they sway, hypnotising, tempting, and he can’t resist to catch a strand; it runs between his fingers, soft despite the dampness, before bouncing back in place. And he knows genetics and physics can explain its texture, its colour, its movement, but there’s nothing in the entire universe that would ever be able to find the reason why her hair seem to be the most amazing thing he has ever seen.

River chuckles and he realises he must have said the latest words out loud.

“Thank you, Sweetie.”

She doesn’t smile for a long time through, frowning as she seems to see him properly for the first time since he’s been here.

“Doctor,” she asks softly, “what happened to your jacket?”

He glances at the piece of clothing, or what remains of it; there’s a big hole on the right side, and a few lacerations on the left. “Oh, that.” He clears his throat. “I kinda found myself here in another time. Do you know that seventy million years ago there was nothing more than a lake instead of an ocean? Just a big pond with a whole jungle around it. Big trees and all.”

“You tripped on a stone and fell in the lake?” she asks, still trying to understand the state of his jacket.

“What? No, no, I didn’t.” He shook his head, but River just raised an eyebrow at him - she just knew him too well, doesn’t she? “It wasn’t a stone, but a dinosaur,” he eventually gave up with a sigh. “A little thing, not more than twenty inches long. Its tail was just lying on the ground and I didn’t see it.”

River laughs, a clear, pure sound to his ears. If he feels constricted by telling her the story of _how-I-almost-get-myself-killed-again-by-being-clumsy_ , the melody of her laughter makes him feel better.

“This thing was really aggressive you know, and it wouldn’t even hear my apologies. It just jumped on me and started eating my jacket, I had to hit him a few times before he eventually dropped.”

“My poor Doctor,” she tries to stop laughing but doesn’t totally manage. “But what would you be doing over there? Did you enter the wrong coordinates again and landed in the wrong century?”

He shrugs and looks down, feeling himself blushing despite all his efforts not to. She must misinterpret his shyness though, because she clearly looks surprised when he shakes his head. “No, no, I didn’t get it wrong. I was looking for this.”

He reaches in the only pocket of his jacket left, pulling out a couple of little white flowers. River gasps at he holds them out.

“You got me prehistoric flowers!”

All traces of her previous sadness completely disappear as she takes them with precaution before kissing him on the cheek, and he can’t help but smile. He could have died for those flowers, but as he sees her like that he knows it was worth the risk.

x.

There’s a scream echoing in the Tardis, and he doesn’t really flinch at it; things like that tend to happen every now and then, especially when he has guests. What’s more frightening is the angry Scottish scream that follows.

“Doctor!”

He runs, lead by the sound of curses and other mentions of his name mixed with deadly threats.

He knows when he reaches the right place, not only because the cries are dangerously close to his ears, but because suddenly he can’t walk forward. The whole corridor is blocked, a pile - no, a _mountain_ of socks blocking the way from top to bottom. There’s a hand sticking out of the clothes, and he grabs it to help its owner to free herself from the socks. Amy emerges, her hair in complete disarray but safe.

“I almost got killed by socks!” she shouted, and he has nothing to do but wince and wait. “It used to be a normal dressing-room here, why is it suddenly full of socks?”

“As it happens, mine was full and River insisted I tidy up a bit,” he tries to explain.

“River?” She frowns. “I doubt my daughter would tell you to put _your_ socks in _my_ dressing-room.”

She looks around her, taking one of the pairs and glaring at it. It’s a dark green with little patterns on it - her eyes darken even more when she realises what they represent

“Doctor…. Are they Daleks wearing Christmas hats?”

He clears his throat. “It seems so, yes.”

She rolls her eyes before throwing the pair and looking at the enormous pile more carefully. The socks are of all colours and patterns, grey, pink and yellow, striped, checked or plain, with cats and dogs and deers, spaceships, stars and mountains, a few with the symbols and shields of various kingdoms of the galaxy, some that change colour or blink. The whole pile looks like the biggest museum of socks of all time.

“Why would you need so many socks anyway?” she simply sighs.

“I’m 1,236 years old, if I want to change socks every day I need a lot of them.”

“So you tell me you bought all of these?”

“I erm… no,” he hesitates, scratching his cheek. “A few, yes, but River gave me most of them.”

Amy stares at him with bewilderment, trying to understand how River would have wanted and bought all those things. “I really need to have a word with her,” she simply states, giving up. “Well, and where have you put all _my_ clothes now that the room is full?”

“Next door,” he points out.

Amy walks away, rolling her eyes once or twice as she does, and the Doctor stays there, wondering how he’s going to fit all the socks back now, thinking about finding another room to put them all.

It’s only then that he realises he already uses a few rooms for other things River gave him. And Amy is opening one of them.

“Amy, no, it’s not the right door!” he screams but it's too late. The girl has already turned the knob, and before he could finish his warning the door is completely open, hundreds and hundreds of hats falling in the corridor, totally covering Amy as she screams. A few seconds of silence follow, before she shouts again.

“Bring me River! _Now!_ ”

x.

There is a time when he spends a whole month with otters. River and he had an argument; he can’t really remember what it was about, they just ended up yelling at each other while cursing in a thousand different languages. At the end he exits the Tardis and walks away, giving up to fight any more with her.

He doesn’t really know how it happens, there’s an otter on his way and he might yell a last stupid thing that sounds like “an otter is easier to live with than you” or “I’d rather live with otters”, and a the next second the Tardis vanishes and he finds standing himself alone in the middle of the forest.

“River?”

He tries to call her and apologise but it’s useless: she must be at the other side of the universe, unable to hear anything he says. It makes him even more angry and he tries to shoot a stone in rage, missing his goal and losing his balance, only managing to find himself with his back on the ground.

“River!” he shouts again, both in anger and frustration. Of course no answer comes, the Tardis doesn’t materialise back, and eventually he just lies there, looking at the sky and sighing, hoping she will be back soon.

It takes him a while to realise the otter is still there, looking at him with its head slightly tilted. “Marriage,” he explains, “do you know what it is?”

The otter shrugs, and tilts its head on the other side. “You’re right, I won’t let her win.” He jumps on his feet and cleans his jacket of the grass. “I’m the Doctor by the way, do you need any help?”

The animal turns back, trotting away, and he just follows it.

As it happens, the otter and its friends need his help. He improves their fishing tactics, secures their dens, finds new solutions to take care of their babies and negotiates a peace treaty with the otters on the other side of the river, who often steal food on their territory (it’s much easier than negotiation between humans; at least none of the animal tries to kill him on the way). In exchange they bring him food and find him a nice place in the forest where he can sleep at night.

Except it doesn’t take him more than two days to make the otters’ world the most perfect place and River isn’t back yet. It’s getting boring and annoying. The otters are nice but he would love a bit more of adventure and discoveries. He tries to explore the forest but as far as he can go it’s only trees and more animals. Boring and annoying.

A whole month passes before River eventually comes back. It might just have been a few hours for her, her eyes still shine with little sparks of anger that disappear almost instantly when she realises the state he’s in; long hair and beard, jackets torn and covered in mud, talking to a few otters as they fish. When he spots her, and the Tardis, he runs to them, hugging the ship first before facing River with hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, but he only shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

He shrugs before turning to the otters who are looking at the both of them with big eyes. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I promise I’ll come and see you one day. Take care of yourself, okay?”

They tilt their head as if they’ve understood and after a last cry they go back to their river, moving on their own life, probably already forgetting him.

An hour later, he’s clean and has put new clothes on when he comes and find River. She closes the book she’s reading and he sits next to her.

“It’s been an interesting month,” he starts. “Otters were very kind and the nicest host.” He pauses, before eventually admitting a bit of the truth. “I had a lot of free time too.”

He reaches in his pocket and put a few things in her hand.

“I’ve made them for you.”

There are a few wooden figures and carved stones, otters and human figures that look like her, a few bow-ties and Tardis-es of course, even a little screwdriver. He pulls more out of his jacket, hundred and hundred of his handmade works. She realises then how long it must have been for him, alone in the forest with only little animals for company; he doesn’t look angry though, just constricted, and she understands it’s his way to say sorry.

They will keep them and it will become a habit; whenever they argue and fight, the apologies will always come with a wooden figurine.

x.

River is the one remembering things like anniversaries and birthdays. It’s not like the Doctor doesn’t remember the dates, but it’s difficult to keep a correct calendar in a time machine and so he tends to never find himself at the right time and the right place. She tells him it doesn’t matter.

She always finds him when it’s their anniversary, or in fact he always finds her standing in his Tardis at the date, in a gorgeous dress and jewelry, a smile on her face. He knows it’s the time then and he dresses up as well, taking her in the most beautiful places in the universe - it makes up for the gift he doesn’t have, or so she says. She always offers him the same thing, a wrapped little box where he finds a bow-tie, like another promise. It always smells like her and he knows he will wear it days and days before the fragrance fades away, always thinking of her.

As for him, he always appears on random days, wishing her happy birthdays three months late or in advance, sometimes twice the same year. She laughs and thanks him, taking the opportunity to run with him and get a present. He likes to vary, books of her favourite writers or x-ray glasses, jewels containing paralysing poisons or miniature bombs hidden in pencils. He knows he shouldn’t encourage her dangerous adventures by buying her those gadgets, but then he thinks she will never listen to him anyway and he prefers to think she’s safer with them. Sometimes she tries them on the waiter of their restaurant, and he scolds her but she takes his hand and they run and she knows he finds it too funny to stop.

This is how they work, and in a way neither of them wouldn’t want to do it differently.

x.

After Trenzalore he doesn’t meet River for a long while, years and centuries until he thinks he will never see her again. It must have been the last time for both of them, or almost, as he knows he still has one night - just one night left, and he doesn’t want to live it soon.

He doesn’t see her for a long long time, but he somehow keeps buying and collecting things for her, even if he doubts he will ever be able to give them. He can’t help it, sometimes he just sees something and thinks about her and how she would love to have something like that and how he would love to see that look in her eyes the moment he offers her. So he keeps picking up gifts for her.

It's everything and anything. Stones from all the planets he visits, until his pockets are full of them. Books on tribal rituals, or dissertations about geological strata and their uses in archaeology. He goes to a party with Coco Chanel in the 1920ies and comes back with famous perfumes and a couple of lipsticks - they aren’t hallucinogenic, don’t hide any laser or any other lethal device, but they are the most beautiful shades of red and he thinks she would have totally loved them. He gets autographs from a few different kings and emperors and generals, collecting them in a special album. After a battle with Cybermen he finds pieces of metal in his hair and keeps them, along with a Dalek gun, a few Sontaran helmets and other trophies. He also buys pretty scarfs, a few dresses, several earrings, and in fact everything that reminds him of her. At the end he has rooms full of gifts waiting.

And then it’s Christmas, River falls from the sky and it’s adventure, laughter, running for their lives again. And it’s just the beginning, twenty-four years waiting for them, much more than everything he has ever imagined.

It’s a few days after the Hydroflax adventure that he starts wondering how he's going to give her everything and how he is going to explain he has spent the last centuries buying gifts for her. It happens he doesn’t have to worry long about it, as eventually he finds her in one of the rooms, sitting on the floor with a few open books scattered around her, wearing a bracelet that matches her eyes perfectly, in her hand a little frame of Picasso he had once made the master sign to her. He watches her for a few minutes, until she looks off the painting and realises he’s there. Hesitation passes in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she says as she sets the painting aside.

“What for ?” Why would she apologise? Does she think he’s angry? Is it the eyebrows again, frowning while he doesn’t ask them to?

“I’m not sure I was supposed to find all of this.”

“Why?” He holds his hand out and she takes it, raising on her feet. He’s getting accustomed to being touched by her, now welcoming the warm pression on her fingers against his palms instead of fearing it. He feels like he could totally get addicted to touching her, his body responding to hers like he had in his previous regenerations. “It’s all for you. I would have ended up giving everything to you.”

She freezes at his words, a slight tremble running through her body and to his by their joined hands. She looks around her, taking in all the things he had gathered. It takes her a long time to reply.

“I didn’t realise,” she whispers, “it had been so long for you.”

He shakes his head, bringing her hand up and pressing a kiss upon her knuckles. “It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.”

It’s not really a lie, not really the truth either, but if she knows, she doesn’t say a thing.

x.

It’s their first anniversary since they’ve started their Darillium adventure. They don’t stay on the planet all the time, none of them could ever manage, but they come back every now and then, a way to remember their time is short and won’t last forever. They always have the same table, right in front of the towers, and it’s also their most beautiful dinners, just the two of them with the stars and the song of the towers.

It’s a special day and even though they don’t spend it as they spent their previous anniversaries, some things are still the same. At some point during their meal she reaches in her handbag and takes a wrapped box out of it; it looks a lot like the previous boxes she offered him, except it’s a little smaller.

“I thought about it,” she starts. “For a long time I didn’t really know what to give you this year. I couldn’t go on with the bow-tie, obviously.”

He nods, letting her continue. “I wanted something that could replace it, but it also had to fit you and…” She hesitates, putting the box in his hands. “You don’t have to wear it, if you don’t like it or if you think it’s too much.”

Curious, he unwraps the box with precaution and opens it, feeling her anxious gaze upon him. Inside there’s a ring, simple, dark grey. 

He runs his fingers on it, unaware of River holding her breath in front of him. It really replaces the bow-tie well, doesn’t it? It’s discreet enough for him to wear all the time but people will probably not spot it, preventing him from answering all the personal questions it could draw. He will be able to keep a piece of her all the time, and only River and he will know he has it, and what it means to them.

“You like it?” his wife asks and it makes him realise he has been staring at it for too long.

“No,” he replies, and her face falls for just a second. “No, I love it.”

He puts it and it fits his finger perfectly.

“It’s made with a special steel, it will adapt to every shape and size.”

She doesn’t say it all but he knows she’s thinking about it - he will be able to wear it even when he regenerates, the ring will just follow.

“Thank you,” he manages to say, “It’s perfect.”

It’s only now that she seems to breathe more easily, and he takes the opportunity.

“I also have something for you.”

She opens her eyes wide; it must be the first time since they’re married he is prepared and has a gift for her on the right day, and the information itself is enough of a present. Her hands are slightly trembling when he holds her the packet he has kept in his jacket.

“A book?” she tries to guess at the shape and weight, but he shakes his head.

“Not really.”

It’s his turn to be anxious as she tears the wrapping paper, discovering a brown leather cover. She can’t hold back a gasp as she opens the pages and they are all blank.

“Is it…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence and so he does for her. “Another diary. I thought that a lot of things can happen in twenty-four years and you probably want to keep a record of them.”

Tear fall from her eyes, tears of joy she doesn’t try to stop. “Thank you,” she manages to whisper, and he knows she doesn’t only thank him for the diary, but everything that it means.

From now on they both know, there will be more gifts, more adventures. More memories.


End file.
